


If We Close Our Eyes

by Namarie



Category: The Blacklist (TV)
Genre: Angst, F/M, Only tagging Keen2 because it's canon right now, Season/Series 03
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-27
Updated: 2016-02-27
Packaged: 2018-05-23 13:19:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,725
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6117643
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Namarie/pseuds/Namarie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Liz tells Ressler about her plans for a future with Tom.</p>
            </blockquote>





	If We Close Our Eyes

**Author's Note:**

> The title comes from the Beatles' “Think For Yourself.” The words are, unfortunately, very apt for Liz right now.
> 
> Spoilers for 3X16 “The Caretaker,” and some minor ones from the promo for 3X17 “Mr. Solomon”.
> 
> Disclaimer: I don't own this show or its characters.

~  
Work was finished for the day. And what a day it had been: the task force had found the Caretaker, and then they had diffused a massive bomb and thereby prevented a terrorist attack (almost no thanks to Aram – but at least Navabi hadn't brought that whole thing up again on the way back to the Post Office). All Ressler really wanted was to finish up his paperwork and go home. Relax, maybe stare at the TV for a while, decompress.

What he didn't want was to witness yet another argument between his former partner and Raymond Reddington. Sure, it didn't look as messy as some of their disagreements – the aftermath of Luther Braxton came to mind, for instance – but from what he saw from a distance away, she was furious and hurt. Again. So much so that she left after delivering her parting shot (which he couldn't hear).

Reddington let her go, which he supposed was the usual, as well. Sighing, Ressler prepared to gather his things and go after her. But then he stopped. It was true she would need someone to talk to, to support her and comfort her after whatever that was – but that wasn't his job anymore. She had made her choice pretty clear. Tom was probably waiting in her apartment right at this very moment.

The thought made it difficult to concentrate on the rest of his paperwork. In fact, he probably needed to find a meeting sometime soon. But in the meantime, Ressler gritted his teeth and forced himself to think about something else. Like the facts of today's case. It helped – some.

~  
There was no new Blacklister the next day, but Ressler found enough work around the office to keep himself occupied without any trouble. He wasn't surprised not to see Liz at all.

That lasted until near the end of the workday. He looked up from his desk at a light knock on the door to see her standing in the doorway. “Hey.”

“Hey,” he said. He gestured to the chair in front of his desk. “Sit down if you want. What's up?”

She came in and sat. Her hands were folded in front of her, and she started fidgeting right away. “I, um, I have something to tell you.”

“Okay.” He leaned back in his chair. “Well, don't leave me in suspense, Keen,” he added with a small smile, when she didn't speak further.

Laughing, Liz met his eyes for a second. “Sorry.” Then she looked away again. “I wanted to tell you that I've, uh, decided to keep the baby. And Tom and I are going to get married.”

He was aware he hadn't succeeded in keeping the shock at the second part of her news off his face. He hoped, at least, that shock was all he was showing. “Really,” he said, after several seconds of silence.

She looked at him with a cautious smile. “Really.”

Married. She was marrying Tom. After everything the bastard had done to her. Ressler swallowed. His fists were clenched; he tried to relax them. She was waiting for a response, and helpless anger mixed with despair was probably not acceptable. “Wow,” he managed at last. He took a breath and tried for a smile. “Well, uh, thanks for letting me know.”

“Yeah. You're welcome,” she said, looking away again. “I'm, um, I told Cooper already, but I wanted to tell everyone.”

That had to mean that Reddington knew, too. Ressler choked back a laugh that most likely would have sounded crazed, imagining the man's reaction to this news. He knew for a fact that Reddington despised Tom Keen almost as much as he himself did. But for right now, he had to say something. “You're really going to marry him, after everything.”

“I know you're-- not exactly his biggest fan,” said Liz. She ran her hands over her protruding belly. “But he's changed. I hope you can give him another chance.”

 _He's changed._ The words rang in his ears, only increasing his rage and nausea. How many times had he heard his father tell stories like this when he was growing up? He remembered how his dad would relate the stories of victims of domestic violence that he had encountered on the beat, swearing that their husbands or boyfriends had really turned around, that they were sure these men would never hurt them again – and then so many of them ended up battered or dead not too much later.

Sure, he'd seen enough during the operation to recover and protect Karakurt to know that Keen, or whatever the hell his real name was, truly believed that he cared about Liz. And he was willing to risk his own safety to help save her. But during that time Keen had also point-blank admitted that he wished he didn't have even the fraction of a conscience that he did have. Plus, Ressler knew there was a lot more to the story of how the man had ended up handcuffed to a hospital bed, barely alive, just a few days ago. And this was the man Liz had chosen to be her husband – the parent of her child.

Ressler realized, again, that Liz was still waiting for a response. He couldn't give her the reassurance she really wanted. But – there was one thing he could say, with total honesty. “Well, I hope you know I want you to be happy, Liz. That's what I always want for you.” And if his voice shook, well, no one could blame him. There was no reason she needed to know that he had once imagined being the one who helped her to be happy.

Liz smiled, a little less tentative. “Thank you, Ressler,” she said, standing up. “I appreciate that. And yes, I do know.”

~  
It wasn't the most logical or healthy choice, Ressler knew, to go directly from his NA meeting that night to a bar. But since he refused to use pills to take the edge off the pain of this day, alcohol was an adequate substitute. If he had enough of it, that is. He sat in a corner, doing his best to project an attitude that would discourage anyone from talking to him, and drank. The vague company of the other bar patrons was enough. Getting drunk alone in his apartment would have made this worse, he was pretty sure. He had briefly considered trying to find someone, anyone who wasn't Liz, tonight. But that had turned out terribly for both of them when he tried it with Samar, so in the end he decided against it.

But of course being left alone for the whole night wasn't in the cards. He was already well on the way to drunk, having long since handed over his car keys to the bartender – but not quite far enough along to have stopped feeling pain yet. That was when a certain familiar figure in a fedora sat down on the bar stool next to him.

“Donald,” he said, with what might have been a smile, “I see Elizabeth has told you her news.”

Ressler sighed, set down his drink, and glared at Reddington. “Go to hell, Red.” He had come here to forget about exactly that, not have it rubbed in his face.

“Obviously,” said Reddington, and Ressler wondered briefly if he'd said that last part out loud. “And I wouldn't normally bother you in your attempt to drown your sorrows, but there are a few things I need to discuss with you.”

“Discuss?” Ressler scoffed. “What the hell is there to discuss?” He took another gulp of whatever he had last ordered from the bartender. “She's going back to _him_ , after all the shit he put her through. He's going to raise that kid, and make both their lives miserable. Maybe not even intent-- int--” That word was proving more difficult than he'd anticipated. “On purpose, but he will.”

“You know I'm not going to disagree,” said Reddington, his voice low. “That's why I'm here, Donald.”

Ressler waited for the bartender to come over, ask Reddington if he wanted something, and leave after hearing whatever the man had ordered. Then he stared at the criminal. “So what, then? Are you planning to do a big, dramatic entrance, crash her wedding? Count me out, if that's your idea.”

It was Reddington's turn to scoff. “Hardly.” The bartender set his drink in front of him. Reddington nodded, then waited until he had left again. Then he turned back to the FBI agent to his left. “But I am asking that you be ready to be there for her when all of this comes crashing down around her – which it will, I can promise you. And I'll be doing my best to make sure that happens before she's already tied herself legally to Tom Keen again.”

It took him a few seconds to process this. Then he blinked, and shook his head. “I don't...” He wasn't sure he could do that. Not when he felt the way he did right now. He was angry at her – but it was more than that, deeper than that. He was feeling hurt. Like she had betrayed him somehow, which didn't make much sense, if he thought about it.

“She's going back to the only time in her life that she ever felt stability – other than growing up with her adoptive father,” said Reddington, his voice even lower. “She's convinced herself it's her best decision, for herself and for her child. But she's wrong.”

“I know that, and you know that,” Ressler sighed, “but she won't listen. You said it yourself: she's convinced she's right.”

Reddington took a drink from his glass. “You don't need to worry about that problem right now, Donald,” was what he said eventually. “What you need to do is get yourself to the point where you can move past your very understandable anger and betrayal, in order to help her when she needs it from you.”

Looking away, Ressler drained his own drink. “I'll try,” he said at last. He marshaled his thoughts. “But in the meantime, I think she wants me to … to support her in this, and I can't do that.”

“Of course you can't,” agreed Red. “If she were thinking at all clearly, she would see why that's asking too much of you. But I'll ask you not to do anything too drastic, at any rate – to yourself or to your relationship with Elizabeth – until this problem is solved.”

There were a lot of things about what the criminal had just said that bothered Ressler, but the alcohol was making it hard to pick them out. Still, what he'd said made sense, mostly. Except for the part where he seemed to be implying... “I'm not an idiot,” he snapped. As Red gave him a wry smile, he shook his head, frustrated but trying not to rise to the man's bait. “And I won't do anything stupid.”

“Good,” Red replied. He finished his drink, stood up, and laid several bills on the bar in front of his seat. Then as he put on his hat, he said, “Are you done with your evening, Donald? If so, let me offer you a ride home. Spare you the cab fare.”

Ressler considered it for longer than he'd thought he would, but then shook his head. “No, thanks.” Even if he was too drunk to remember much of this tomorrow, it still felt too weird to voluntarily catch a ride with Raymond Reddington. Besides, he wasn't so sure he was finished here.

“Very well.” Without seeming the slightest bit offended, Red bid him farewell and left the bar.

As for Ressler, he ordered another drink. Tomorrow was a Saturday. So unless Reddington decided to be more sadistic than usual and call everyone in for another case, at least he'd be able to deal with the coming hangover in the quiet of his apartment.

~  
Ressler managed to discreetly keep his distance from Liz the next few times she showed up at the Post Office. It was better that way. The less time they were in contact, the lower the chance he would, as Reddington had put it, do something “drastic” that would cause lasting damage to their friendship. Because despite everything, he did still want to be able to be Liz's friend. If she did marry Tom, though, he knew this purposeful distance would have to continue, for his own mental and emotional health.

But it was only about a week after she had first told him of her marriage plans that Liz found him alone in his office again. “Hey,” she said, walking in. She had a piece of paper in her hands. “You have a minute?”

“Sure.” He glanced at the paper. “Is that for me?”

“Yeah.” She came over to his desk and handed it to him. It was an envelope.

When Ressler opened it, he felt his heart drop. It was an invitation, which looked to be handmade. He was invited to her wedding that weekend.

“It's just going to be a small thing, not very many people,” she said. “But it'd be great if you-- Ressler, what's wrong?”

Apparently he hadn't done a good job of hiding his reaction this time. Maybe that was for the best, no matter what Reddington had said. He swallowed and dropped the card on his desk. “You really want me to be there. And Tom does, too?”

“He's … fine with it,” she said, blinking at him. “He knows you're my friend. I think he respects you a lot more than he used to.”

“Uh huh.” It took him a few seconds to be able to keep going. “Well, I can't go. I'm sorry.”

Liz's eyes widened. “Why not? I know it's pretty short notice--”

“If you honestly can't see any reason I wouldn't be able to do this, to support you marrying Tom, then I guess you don't know me that well after all,” he interrupted. He kept his voice level, but couldn't keep it calm. “I told you before, I want you to be happy. That's still true. And of course you're an adult who can make your own decisions. But I can't support this one. I can't support you with him.”

She looked shocked, and more than slightly hurt. “Ressler … I know you and Tom have had your differences, but--”

“Differences?” He scoffed. “Do you know what he told me, when I went out to the cabin where he was holding Karakurt? He said--” Then he scoffed again, and shook his head. “No, you know what? It won't matter what I tell you. It doesn't matter that he's obviously still a liar who doesn't even know how to be honest. Your mind's made up. There's no way you don't know exactly what kind of a person he is by now, and yet you decided to go back to him.”

“Now you're starting to sound like Reddington,” she said, her shock turning quickly to offense.

Ressler gave her a bitter smile. “Yeah, well, it doesn't bother me in the least to say I agree with Reddington on this topic. When he's right, he's right.”

It was Liz's turn to scoff, as she snapped, “So you and he both want to tell me what to do now. Great.”

Suddenly all his anger dissipated, leaving sadness and resignation behind. “No, Liz,” he said, staring down at the invitation on his desk. “That's not what I want to do. Like I said, you're an adult who has the right to make her own decisions. I'm just trying to tell you what I think. I'm telling you why I can't go to your wedding, and hoping you'll understand. That's all.”

Silence fell for several seconds. Then Liz took a deep, shuddering breath. Her voice was cold as she said, “Fine. Then I guess I won't see you this weekend.”

“I guess you won't.” After she left, Ressler found himself staring at the door she had gone through. If things continued to go the way it looked like they were going, they would be seeing a lot less of each other even after that. He supposed his only hope was Reddington and whatever he was planning. It wasn't exactly a reassuring thought. Still, Ressler would hold onto it.

~

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to Mack_the_Spoon for her beta.
> 
> Also, I tried my hardest not to bash Liz in this story! I used to love her character, and I still really want to love her – but her decisions as written recently on the show are making that increasingly difficult. This is really just my attempt to process the latest episode. From the promo for the next episode (agh, so long to wait!), it looks like Ressler isn't going to be at her wedding, which doesn't surprise me at all.


End file.
